


homin | slipper wireless & telecom

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Author: Ai, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Yunho is the only one who understands Changmin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	homin | slipper wireless & telecom

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [silence/sound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457725) by [bishounens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounens/pseuds/bishounens). 



It’s 3am but Changmin can’t sleep. He lies on top of the bedsheets and stares up at the spinning ceiling fan. The room that he shares with Junsu is sweltering. There’s no air conditioning unit, and the fan does nothing but move the hot air around. Changmin hates being hot. He hates the way the humidity makes him sweat, the way it makes his clothes stick to his body, and the way it makes him feel lethargic beyond belief.

Lethargic, but wide awake.

He lies awake for a few more moments before getting up. He shuffles into the main living area of their tiny apartment and switches on a light. No one else is awake. Yoochun, Jaejoong, and Yunho must be fast asleep in their shared room, because all Changmin hears is the ticking clock on the wall, mocking his insomnia. He sits down at the kitchen table and pulls his Japanese textbooks close. He stares down at the unfamiliar characters and wonders if they’ll ever make sense to him. Sure, he’d learned a bit of hanja in school, but the page of kanji staring back at him is unforgiving.

 _How are we supposed to debut here if we can’t even speak the language?_ Changmin mutters to himself. _If I can’t even speak the language._

He pushes the books away and gives up on trying to study as well.

There’s an ache in his chest and Changmin realizes that what he wants more than anything, more than sleep, more than fluency, more than success, is to go back to Korea. He wants to walk down the streets of Seoul with his friends and eat all of his favorite things again. He doesn’t understand why they have to go to Japan when they’re doing just fine in Korea.

Changmin pulls out his cell phone and clicks through his contact list to see who might still be awake. But then he remembers that he doesn’t have a Japanese SIM card because he can’t figure out how to buy one. He tosses his cell phone on top of his textbooks and blinks back tears. He needs to talk to someone, but there’s no one who could understand.

In theory, he can talk to any one of the hyungs. They’re in Japan trying desperately to learn enough Japanese to debut just like he is. Though none of them have said it, Changmin guess that they’re homesick as well. Yoochun and Junsu had spent half the day yesterday trying to track down a Korean restaurant that had never materialized. But none of them ever mention it, at least not to him.

 _Besides,_  Changmin thinks to himself. _They at least want to be here. I still don’t even know if I even want to be in this band, let alone trying to make it big in Japan._  And it’s true. His mother had dragged him to auditions to meet BoA, and somehow he’d made it into Asia’s next top boyband with four other guys. Four others who were and will always be his hyungs.

Changmin sighs. He stands up and walks over to the sliding glass door that leads out to their tiny balcony. He takes his slippers off before stepping out into the night air that’s only slightly cooler than the air inside their apartment. He tries to look to the west, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he looks hard enough he can see the Korean coastline, but a large apartment building, similar to the one he is in now, blocks his view. So instead, he looks up into the night sky and wonders if anyone can hear him.

As a kid, Changmin had often experienced what it was like as the odd man out. His sisters were both younger than he was and well, both girls. He had wished for a brother but much to his chagrin, his parents brought home two girls from the hospital instead.

“They’ll love you, Changminnie,” his mother had said. “You need to be a good example for them.”

Changmin grimaces at the thought. He had teased them mercilessly, feeling that if he couldn’t fit in with them, at least he could hold power over them. But it hadn’t worked: his teasing had only brought his two sisters closer together and edged him further out.

 _And now,_  he supposes, _I’m getting what I deserve._ He thinks about all the pranks the hyungs had played on him, some more hurtful than others. Always the odd man out. The awkward youngest who can’t fight back.

To cope with being left out as a child, Changmin had invented his own gibberish language that he would speak in front of his sisters to confuse them. They would beg him to translate the nonsense for them, but he had always refused. It had turned into a coping mechanism: whenever they had teased him, he would revert to his secret language and walk off.

Now, standing on the balcony in the middle of some random neighborhood in Tokyo, Changmin holds his slipper to his ear like an imaginary phone and starts to talk to himself in the same gibberish language of his childhood. He talks about how much he misses Korea, about how hard it is in Japan, about how he doesn’t think he’ll ever fit in with the hyungs, and about just how horrible he feels. He gets so animated that he doesn’t realize Yoochun walking up behind him.

“Changmin? What the fuck are you doing out here?”

Changmin turns, slipper still pressed against his ear.

Yoochun starts to laugh. “Are you talking to _aliens_ or what?”

“Shut up,” Changmin replies, tears stinging his eyes. All the relief he’d felt from his gibberish session is gone. He pushes past Yoochun and runs back to his and Junsu’s bedroom before falling onto his bed and trying not to cry.

*

The others find it all incredibly amusing when Yoochun informs the rest of them about Changmin’s midnight adventures. They’re all smirking into their cereal bowls when Changmin finally gets out of bed to join them for breakfast.

“Tell me, Changmin,” Junsu says, “Do the aliens ever talk back?”

Changmin shoots him death glares and decides that he doesn’t need breakfast.

*

Changmin had expected things to get easier the longer they’re in Japan, but so far things have only gotten worse. His homesickness seems to get worse everyday until he starts to exhibit physical symptoms of illness.

“He’s fine,” the managers say. “Just tired.”

“From talking with aliens,” Junsu mutters to Yoochun. The others all snicker.

*

They finally debut in Japan, and Changmin expects to finally feel relieved. Instead, the stakes are even higher because now that they’ve debuted, they need to succeed. After all, they did it in Korea. They’ll do it here as well.

Changmin hardly sleeps. They barely have time to rest first of all, and when he finally does slip into slumber, his dreams turn into ravenous nightmares.

So instead, he slips out of the bedroom and tiptoes across the living room for the balcony. It’s springtime now, but the nights can still hold a chill. Changmin shivers a bit as he steps out into the darkness, but he doesn’t go back inside. Instead, he looks up at the little sliver of a moon and holds his slipper to his ear.

He’s halfway through telling whoever is listening (could be the aliens, could be the elderly lady one floor below, could be the middle-aged couple a few balconies over) about how stressful their performances are, when he hears the door slide open behind him. His entire body tenses as he slowly turns to see who has come to mock him now.

Yunho walks out next to him and stares at the building blocking their view to the west. “Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Changmin replies, still holding the slipper aloft.

“Neither can I,” Yunho says. He motions towards the slipper. “How’s the connection on those?”

Changmin’s eyes darken and he’s about to spit out something hateful, but he realizes that Yunho’s face holds no trace of malice. “It’s okay,” he replies in a quiet voice.

Yunho nods but says nothing. Suddenly, he reaches down and pulls the slipper off his own foot and holds it to his ear. “Changmin?” he says.

Changmin slowly presses his own slipper back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“Keep going.”

Changmin doesn’t understand at first, but Yunho patiently waits for him to continue the story from earlier. Changmin begins, hesitatingly at first, but soon launches back into his long monologue of gibberish. Of course, Yunho has no idea what Changmin’s words means, but he listens anyways and nods attentively.

Yunho doesn’t speak until Changmin’s voice trails off. Finally, he sets the slipper on the balcony ledge and says softly, “Do you feel better?”

Changmin evaluates and realizes that the knot in his chest has finally started to loosen. “Yeah,” he says. But his voice cracks and the tears return and the hand holding the slipper drops to his side.

Before Changmin can brush away the tears from his eyes, Yunho is hugging him tightly and whispering to him in Korean. “I’m sorry, Changminnie, I’m really sorry,” Yunho says. “I didn’t realize that things were so hard on you, and I’ll try to make things easier for you. I’m glad you’re on our team, really, Changminnie.”

Changmin buries his face in Yunho’s shoulder and cries for a very long time.

*

The company doesn’t rent an apartment for them the first time. Instead, the two of them get to share a room in some random hotel close to the venue. The rest of their staff occupy the other rooms on the floor, but they’ve all been told not to get too comfortable. If the performance tomorrow doesn’t go well, they won’t bother to stay.

Yunho’s taking one of his marathon showers, leaving Changmin to fight his nerves on his own. He takes some vitamins to help him sleep, but anxiety gnaws at his stomach.

“Fuck it,” he mutters to himself. He pulls himself out of bed and walks over to the door leading to the balcony. As always before going outside, he removes his slippers, but instead of just sliding them off, he holds them in his hands before stepping out A blast of cold wintry air greets him, causing him to shiver. He exhales and watches as his breath forms clouds in the air. The city is aglow before him: bright neon lights clutter the streets and if he looks to the east, he can see the lights from the venue they’ll perform at tomorrow as two.

_As two._

Suddenly, it’s five years earlier and Changmin is standing on the balcony outside of their crappy apartment, talking on his slippers into the night sky. Changmin tries to swallow the rising lump in his throat as he wonders if this time, they’ll make it through alright.

Subconsciously, he raises the slipper to his ear. He doesn’t speak right away. When he does, his voice comes out as a whisper and he starts to speak the gibberish language he hadn’t needed for so long.

Changmin stays out long enough for his teeth to start to chatter, making his words even more incomprehensible than usual. His teeth are clacking too loudly to hear Yunho calling his name from behind the glass door, but the sound of the door opening causes him to turn.

“Changdola, your lips are blue,” Yunho says, before spotting the slipper in Changmin’s hand. “You’re nervous,” he says, a statement not a fact.

Changmin nods. A shiver shakes his body and he watches as Yunho smiles with the same sincerity as he had all those years ago. Yunho steps forward and and puts his arms around Changmin. His body is still warm from the shower, and Changmin huddles against him to stay warm.

“Has slipper technology improved like our cell phones have?” Yunho asks softly.

Changmin manages a weak laugh. “You’re an idiot, hyung.” A pause. “But no, not really.”

They stay up late talking until they fall asleep against each other under the warm comforter. And when he wakes up the next morning with his face smushed into Yunho’s armpit, Changmin realizes he’s finally found someone in Japan who can understand him.

*

“I got you a present,” Changmin says, shoving a plastic shopping bag at Yunho. “Y’know, for our tenth anniversary in Japan or whatever.”

“Funny,” Yunho replies, pulling out a similarly wrapped bag for Changmin. “Because I did too.”

They open their packages at the same time and both burst into laughter. Each of them pull out a pair of cheap hotel slippers and hold them up for the other to see.

Yunho grabs for Changmin and pulls him into a hug. “They’re not the newest technology,” Changmin finds himself saying, “but they’ll do.”

“Yeah,” Yunho replies with a chuckle. “They’ll do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also inspired by this: http://plincess-cho.tumblr.com/post/147624669789/kawaiipickle-how-to-cope-with-homesickness-by


End file.
